Nameless
by TheSoulReader
Summary: So called because I couldn't think of a decent title. Rated M for mild cursing, but surprisingly, no sex this time! An ACTUAL one shot...FOR REAL!


It was a steady pressure on her hips that woke her and the low thrum of a familiar soul reaching out to hers that kept her from panicking. An alabaster giant straddled her hips, merlot eyes glowing against the shine of the moon. His breathing was steady, his gaze somber. Muscled arms hung limply at his sides and ethereal strands of hair ghosted across a tan, flushed face.

"Soul?"

Maka blinked, trying to clear her vision. Her brain was bogged down by the haze of sleep, and she was confused about Soul's intrusion. It wasn't that she wasn't used to him entering her room, not even at such a late hour. He often sought her for comfort after a rough mission.

"I can't do this anymore, Maka," he whispered.

"Do what?" Maka rubbed at her eyes and mumbled incoherently. "This can't wait until morning?"

And then he was descending, stretching his body along the length of hers, forehead to forehead, his groin settled between her legs. He was so tense that he shook over her, and when ruby met emerald, she understood.

"Tell me to leave. Tell me to get up and leave and I swear you won't see me again. Not ever. You can find a new partner, you can make a new Death Scythe. But I can't…I can't pretend anymore."

He was heavy on top of her, even though he was trying his best not to crush her. She was trapped beneath his weight, but she was not afraid. She could never fear Soul. Her heart fluttered in her chest, bounced off her ribcage, and her stomach plummeted as she considered the implications of what he was telling her.

Maka made a vain attempt to look anywhere but at him. It was futile.

"Soul, I…" she swallowed thickly, unsure how to continue.

"Tell me you don't love me, Maka. Tell me you don't feel the same way I do and I will pack my things tonight."

She turned her head away slowly and stared at the wall by the door. Now she was afraid. This was not a confession she was prepared to make.

"I don't love you," she intoned flatly.

"Look me in the eye," came the growled response. "Look me in the eye and say that."

Maka's head rotated back towards him, and now her eyes were filled with tears. Tears and fury that he would do this to her.

"I don't," she choked out a response. "I don't want to love you."

And the starry droplets fell from jeweled eyes, settling uncomfortably in her ears, wetting her neck, dampening his fingertips as he stroked her cheeks.

Soul sat up, pulling her along with him. Clumsy fingers tucked an ashen strand of hair behind her ear. Maka slept with her hair down, and he wished she'd leave it that way more often. He loved the way it framed her face and gave him an excuse to reach out and touch her.

"You don't want to love me," the young man gurgled, trying to swallow his own tears, "but you do, don't you?"

Maka was trying to close herself off to him. Eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she tried to rebuff the advance of his soul, shoving back roughly with her own.

"Answer me, Maka."

His voice had deepened over the years. When he yelled in battle, that voice reverberated in her ears, caused her body to vibrate. Soothed her, angered her, saddened her, and brought her great joy. Outside of battle, he did not command, did not demand, did not badger or coerce. He requested.

She granted his request with a feeble nod of her head, but she still refused to look at him.

"Say it," he pleaded. "I need to hear you say it."

With a deep breath she opened her eyes and stared up at him. Her chin jutted out in indignation and her wavelength came alive with fire and malice, love and loyalty.

"YES! I love you ok?! I LOVE you, Soul Alistair Evans, and I HATE you for it!" she spat at him.

Tiny fists pummeled his chest and the tears flowed anew, because he had made her say the words she had kept locked away for over a decade. And as the blows rained down, he captured her hands in his own meaty ones and pressed them to his chest.

"How could you do this to me?" came a hiccupped cry. "I don't want to! I don't! I don't, I don't! I CAN'T!"

Soul rocked back on his knees, pulling her into his lap and smothering her with a tight hug. It was then that she felt wetness on her neck and the shudder of his body. His wavelength practically bawled, the intensity of it making her nauseous.

"I didn't want to either. I swear it, Maka. I tried! I tried so hard to stop it, but I couldn't. I couldn't, I couldn't."

His lips pressed to her neck, and then her cheek. Her nose, her forehead, her eyelids. She didn't stop him.

"I know how you feel about love and relationships. I know that I could never convince you that I am not your father. I know that I could never prove to you that I wouldn't ever do what he did," he gasped and rasped and felt the phlegm vibrate in his throat as he tried to swallow his feelings. Men didn't cry. This

was so uncool.

"But what I know most of all, Maka Adrian Albarn, is that nobody knows me like you do, because I never let them. And you…you…book-wormed your nerdy self into my life. My heart. The only way to get rid of you would be to cut my heart out of my chest, and I am not sure that even that would cure me. Even if I died, you would still be with me, because I am so fucking in love with you."

Maka's fists were still clasped in his and she looked at how he held her. Secure and safe…he always kept her that way. And when she looked into those eyes of wine she was struck by how open he was. She knew he was ready to die for her, had known that since they were thirteen. That was never a question for her. And he knew she would die for him. But now, as she stared into those depthless pools, stared straight into his soul, she knew that they would kill for each other.

No mission was necessary. There needn't be a reason beyond the potential loss of the other. Because for them to lose one another would mean death even in life, and that was not a thought that Maka could bear.

A thin arm drew across her nose as she sniffled heavily. A strangled half laugh slipped past her lips and she pushed her fists into his chest again, a gentle pressure.

"You love me." It was a hushed whisper.

He only nodded, silver-white hair falling over his eyes.

There was a moment's hesitation, the stop start of brief indecision as Maka closed the gap between them. And then her lips were on his, soft and cautious. He was just as unsure, but answered her with a responding pressure and the release of her hands. Large palms reached up to cup her face and thumbs stroked tear stained cheeks.

"Show me how much you love me, Soul Evans," she breathed against his lips.

And together, they descended into the darkness.


End file.
